occasional2 hamster, but they don’t really survive long enough to create a lasting bond. They don’t rub up against you, purring and meowing, begging for attention. They don’t respond to your emotions and jump into your lap3 or lick your hand to lend moral support.
So how do you explain to a child the concept of life and death? How do you comfort him when he feels he has lost such a close friend? Like anyone else, I draw on my past experiences.
I would study my feelings regarding death and try to establish a means to explain why this had to happen and what good will come from it.
I remembered my maternal grandmother’s painful death to cancer, a close personal friend dying of a heart attack while serving in the navy and the lost pets I cherished as a child. The experience that helped me deal best with my son’s feelings was the loss of my favorite pet to a fire.
I remember vividly4 the firefighter apathetically carrying my friend by the tail from our burnt home and dropping her lifeless body on the ground. I spent several stunned moments pondering why this happened. Then I got to the task of giving her a proper burial—one that a good friend would truly deserve.
As it stood, I had to settle for burying her in my backyard, muttering some magic words to release her spirit and spending several hours crying beside her crude grave.
Realizing how much these simple actions had helped me deal with my own loss, I now approach my son to explain death. I try to tell him about the cycle of life and how everything that lives must die someday. Most important, I have to understand his feelings and allow him time to grieve. Like me, he will never truly get over the pain or the feeling of loss, but he will learn to accept them someday. Until that day comes, all I can do is listen to how he is feeling, provide a shoulder to cry on and support him as any parent would.
So, why do things die? Well, son, things die so that they can be remembered by future generations. And most of all, death is necessary so we should appreciate the value of our own lives.